


Can you feel the love tonight?

by Omglooknoone



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, korra/asami sato - Fandom
Genre: Can You Feel The Love Tonight (Lion King Song), Canon Compliant, F/F, I'm not sure what this is, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 10:31:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13715802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omglooknoone/pseuds/Omglooknoone
Summary: Based on a prompt from love-me-a-good-prompt on tumblr:Imagine Person A and Person B are both single and decide to spend Valentines Day together and do all of the silly cliche Valentines Day things together as friends BUT somewhere between the flowers, the heart-shaped candy, the fancy dinner, and the romantic movies, they end up catching feelings for each other





	Can you feel the love tonight?

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone, sorry this is a bit late for Valentines Day but it's here now for you to enjoy!

Korra mentally slaps herself. What was she thinking, asking Asami to be her “friend Valentine” this year? She glares at her thumbs, the culprits responsible for sending that honest-to-spirits awful text. 

 

_ I may be bad at math, but you + me equalist a date tonight ;)  _

 

She groans, stuffing the device that would cause her death under the pillow. On a good day, Korra sputtered and tripped over her own feet anytime Asami flipped her hair- how would she hide her feelings on the most romantic night of the year? 

 

She feels a slight buzz from beneath her pillow and cracks one eye open, squinting at it before deciding to just rip off the bandaid and read her response. 

 

_...too soon _

 

Korra’s eyes widen,  _ shit _ . Desperately trying to salvage her friendship, Korra’s thumbs begin typing so quickly that her response began: omgf asaami it wasa just a joek I didnt even reali- 

before a second buzz came. 

 

_ But, I’d love to. What did you have in mind?  _

 

This is where Korra decides she doesn’t need opposable thumbs, certainly not ones that responded: 

 

_ I’ll surprise you. Dress snazzy.  _

 

Snazzy? Who the hell even says that? _Snaazzzyyy. Snnaaazzy._ Korra squints, testing the word a few times in her head before her eyes bugged. She had no plans at all for tonight and all the restaurants were probably completely full and she would probably be the worst date ever and then Asami would never speak to her again and- 

 

She tries a few of Tenzin’s breathing techniques.  _ Relax, it’s not even a real date.  _ Her excitement deflates slightly, and she lets out a sigh that  _ reeks _ of pining when she realizes that heartbreak probably smells like jasmine and motor oil. 

 

Nevertheless, Asami Sato, who designs engines and machines and loves the rain, deserves the world and Korra would rather die before she stopped trying to give it to her. She decides that, as much as she and Asami poked fun at people who dove headfirst into the commercialization of holidays (“What would you even do with so many stuffed lionmooses?” Asami quirked a brow and eyed the one dangling from her fingertips.), she wants to do something cheesy and memorable and unexpected for her best friend. 

 

She airbends the shirt from last night over her head as she pokes her head inside the fridge. Yeah, romantic dinners usually consist of more than half a carrot and a dumpling stuck to the door of the fridge, which she pops in her mouth absentmindedly while mentally reviewing the shops she needs to visit today. 

 

XXX 

 

Korra is instantly overwhelmed by the scent of the plants in Gommu’s Garden. There’s glowing, golden blossoms and satin-petaled orchids that look incredibly soft, but Korra thinks they’re nothing compared to the smoothness of Asami’s skin. She gulps. _ It’s going to be a really long night. _ She’s about to close her eyes and spin to pick a flower when a familiar man pops up next to her, eyes glittering mischievously.

 

“To what honor do I owe this visit from Avatar Korra?” He grins toothily at her. 

 

Korra stammers, but if anyone knows what kind of flowers to get, it’s probably this little man that smells strangely like fried fish amidst the overpowering scents of the plants. 

 

“I’m, um, kind of looking for flowers for a friend- date?” Her voice cracks awkwardly. 

 

He shoots her a knowing look before walking briskly towards the back, not even checking to see if Korra is following. 

 

He gestures at the flowers with a broad sweep of his hands, “Luckily for you my friend, I have exactly what you’re looking for.”

 

Korra raises an eyebrow. “A cactus.” She says flatly. 

 

“What? No,” He frowns before realizing that the flowers he’s talking about are slightly to the right of his hands. 

 

Korra shifts her gaze away from the pathetic, shriveled cactus to a row of blazing blossoms that look like they’ve been kissed by energy from the spirit world. But they’re closed, and they haven’t bloomed yet. Just as she opens her mouth and raises a finger, Gommu interrupts. 

 

“Avatar, please, a small fire, if you will,” He says with that same mischievous glint in his eyes.  

 

Curious, Korra ignites a small flame in the palm of her hand as Gommu places a single blossom so close the tendrils of fire are nearly touching its surface. Her eyes widen as it slowly opens, each petal resembling a tendril of flame, splashed with a brilliant shade of yellow in the center. It’s beautiful and fiery, dazzling and warm and it’s so _Asami_ she can barely believe it. 

 

Her mouth is agape as she stares at Gommu’s pleased expression. “Wh-how did you-?”

 

He winks. “I’ve been around town,” he declares jauntily, “and you’re an easy one to read, Avatar Korra.” 

 

She flushes so hard she might as well join his flower collection; she’s sure she’s red enough to be an Iroh’s Snapdragon of the West. As she reaches for a few bills to pay for the bouquet, he presses it insistently into her hands before adding, “free, for the tasty-smelling fishies.” 

 

Korra has a brief memory of the little man she shared her fish with when she first came to the city. Things have certainly changed, she thinks before thanking him and leaving the shop with a  _ ding.  _ She takes a deep whiff of the flowers, and she swears they smell a little bit burnt and a little like motor oil. 

 

XXX

 

She enters Sokka’s Superstore and everything is so pink and fluffy she thinks she could vomit. Except she doesn’t. Because she gets it now. She understands what it feels like to be so full of affection and adoration for someone that she thinks she just might explode. (Maybe the exploding confetti balloons are too much?) 

 

The shelves are endless and the idea of picking the perfect, cheesy gift for Asami is a daunting task. But really, if she doesn’t know whether Asami would prefer sky bison shaped chocolates or flying lemur gummies, does she really love her? Luckily, Korra has been in plenty of high stress situations before and she knows what to do. Her avatar instincts kick in. 

 

She turns right around and walks out of the store.

 

XXX

 

 

She arrives at the apartment, juggling her keys, the flowers (they tickle her nose the way Asami’s hair does when they hug) and the rest of the bags filled with decorations, because she’s the avatar and she’s pretty sure no avatar in history has ever had to make a second trip. 

 

Placing the flowers in a vase, she grins, imagining the way Asami’s eyes will light up when she presents them to her. It’s the same look that she gets when her first prototype whirs to life, the same look she gets when she watches cartoons-- she wants to make Asami look like that everyday. She imagines the softest blush spreading across her cheeks, the way Asami will gaze at her through long lashes, the curtain of hair that cascades down her back and frames her face as her lips curve into a soft smile. 

 

She just about melts into a puddle before remembering that she’s supposed to pick up Asami soon. 

 

XXX

 

To say she’s nervous on the drive to Asami’s office is an understatement, but Korra supposes there isn’t really a word for how it feels when you’re about to take the girl you’re in love with on a platonic date and you don’t know if you’re going to be able to stop your feelings from dribbling out like a leaky faucet. The leaky faucet image isn’t the most romantic and Korra thinks she might need to use the little avatar’s room when she arrives. 

 

She walks into Asami’s office, where her favorite CEO is just starting to pack up for the night. Her back is turned away as she bends down to put away some files, and all of a sudden Korra’s heart forgets where it’s supposed to reside and lodges itself in her throat. 

 

“Urrrgh, hargh, caaaack,” Korra clears her throat noisily, “Hey, you” she finishes weakly. 

 

Asami’s raised eyebrow turns into an amused look as she takes in the sight of her friend’s ridiculous antics. 

 

“Hey, yourself,” She teases lightly. 

 

Korra’s about to respond when she realizes-- snazzy does not even begin to cover it. (and no, that cropped shirt definitely does  _ not  _ cover all of Asami.) She thinks she’s never been so jealous of an article of clothing before, but if it means she gets to hug every contour of Asami’s long legs, she doesn’t think she would mind being a pair of jeans after all. Her eyes trail upwards, grazing across the soft, pale skin she can  _ just  _ barely catch a glimpse of when Asami moves the right wa- 

 

_ Shit. _

 

Before Korra can say anything, Asami has closed the distance between them and looks into her eyes. “Hey, is everything okay?” 

 

Korra nods quickly, offering a lopsided grin of reassurance. She thinks she does a decent job of not looking like someone who feels like the perfume hitting their nose is reprogramming every cell in their body to waltz stupidly in place instead of performing their normal functions. It seems to work because Asami relaxes and turns to grab her coat. 

 

“Where to?” 

 

XXX 

 

Asami is absolutely devouring the noodles in front of her, and Korra doesn’t think she’s ever seen anything more beautiful. The flicks of her chopsticks are smooth and efficient, and when she combs her fingers through her hair, pushing it back, Korra can’t tear her eyes away from the graceful slope of her neck or the flutter of her eyelashes if she wanted to (and she doesn’t want to). There’s something Korra can’t quite put her finger on, something about Asami that transcends the words she’s been equipped with. It’s more than beauty that makes her breathtaking—but that doesn’t mean Korra doesn’t notice the way the pastel colors of the sky blend across her features. It just means that she’s absorbed by the grace and warmth that manifest in every single one of her movements, that permeate the very space she occupies. Even though they’re sitting together at a table near the edge of the cliff, looking over the sun sinking into the sea, it’s no wonder Korra’s eyes never wander far when they’re together.

 

There are few views that can compare to the sight of Asami, hair pulled back loosely, perfect eyebrows furrowed intently, slurping up her noodles in true Water tribe fashion (though she would later deny that she had ever “slurped” in her life). 

 

She does slow down eventually, because Korra brings up the time Mako found out that she and Asami were friends, imitating his expression with surprising accuracy, and Asami chokes, sputtering and coughing but unable to keep the laughter from slipping out in between drinks of water. 

 

“And he jus- he, Korra do his face again,” Asami giggles. 

 

She draws her eyebrows together, smoothing her fingers over them to create their distinctive shark shape and pulls her best brooding expression. 

 

“Looks like you had some car trouble,” she starts gruffly. Asami is wiping at her eyes, waving at her to stop, but Korra grins and continues. “Good thing the police are here.” 

 

Asami absolutely loses it, and before she can stop herself, lets out an undignified snort. One glance at the horrified look on Asami’s face and Korra’s howling—the kind of laughter that makes her feel lighter, growing from the center of her core until it reaches the tips of her fingers and ears. 

 

“Korra! Stop laughing,” Asami protests indignantly, and the look on her face is so earnest and mortified Korra can’t hold in another round of snickers. 

 

Without warning, Asami grabs her, trying to wrestle her into submission. Korra immediately tries to squirm out of her grasp (they’re heading into dangerous territory), but the feeling of Asami’s warmth pressed so closely against her side is really, really distracting so Korra relents, trying to ignore how heavy their breathing is, and the way her lips brush against the hand Asami has slapped over her mouth. 

 

They both freeze. They’re tangled together, arms wrapped awkwardly around one another in their struggle and Korra tries desperately not to get lost in the twinkling depths of Asami’s peridot eyes before gulping, hoping her own eyes aren’t as easy to read as picture books. It’s hard not to crack under Asami’s gentle gaze-- Korra thinks she can probably take her apart piece by piece, engineer that she is, but she knows Asami’s the only one who could piece her back together anyway. Something like courage bubbles up in the pit of her stomach, but before she can process anything, she feels Asami’s arms around her sag as she lets go. 

 

Korra all but sighs as Asami’s warmth disappears from around her sides, her scent still lingering in her nose. She tentatively searches Asami’s face finding  _ is that disappointment? _ , before frowning. Maybe this date thing hadn’t been such a good idea. 

 

They’re quiet for a few moments, unsure of what just occurred before Asami breaks the silence. 

 

“Thanks for this, Korra. You’re really, really sweet for doing this for me. I honestly can’t even remember the last time I felt so carefree,” She smiles wistfully. 

 

Korra’s eyes widen, “Actua-”

 

“You’re such a loyal friend, and I can’t say I really want this to end-”

 

“Asami.” 

 

“Yes?”

 

A grin spreads across Korra’s face. “We’re not done here yet. I’m not letting you get away that easily. I picked up some movies for us,” She finishes hopefully. 

 

There’s that look. Her smile is brilliant as she pushes a strand of hair behind her ear, “Sounds perfect.” 

 

XXX

 

The key to the apartment clicks into place, and Korra braces herself as she opens the door, revealing a room that looks like Cupid had been personally offended by her pining and had taken it upon himself to vomit in her apartment. 

 

Asami gasps in glee, revelling in the feathers that float down from the ceiling (one of them falls into Korra’s mouth as she’s about to speak and she spits it out unceremoniously). Korra thinks she could die happily right then and there, but Asami steps on a balloon, and startled by the loud pop, nearly crashes into the vase on the counter. Catching Asami slightly with one arm and picking up the vase with the other, Korra offers the bouquet to the off balance CEO (she thinks she could get used to the feeling of Asami leaning on her) with a lopsided grin. 

 

“These. For you, small cactus said you would like,” She babbles before promptly shutting her mouth and praying that Asami will understand. 

 

The laughter that reaches her ears is downright musical, and of course she understands, she is Asami Sato after all. 

 

Asami smells the flowers appreciatively before quirking an eyebrow at her, “You know, these are supposed to be open when you give them to people,” she teases, her tone light. 

 

“Let me show you something,” Korra squints playfully at her before a small flame appears, flickering at the tip of her finger.

 

The flower moves slightly, as if stretching before a performance, and starts opening. The petals peel back, revealing a splash of yellow that runs up the center of each glowing petal. It’s like a blooming ember, and Korra takes a peek at Asami’s expression, stiffening when she sees the tears glimmering in Asami’s eyes. 

 

The flame goes out completely as Korra turns to Asami, worry filling her expression. 

 

“Oh my gosh, I didn-” Korra’s glad she’s cut off when Asami flings her arms around Korra’s neck because she didn’t know what she was going to say anyways. 

 

She relishes in the feel of Asami in her arms and lets herself sink into the engineer’s embrace. It feels right, and it’s a long moment before Asami finally pulls back, her voice hoarse. 

 

“I totally didn’t mean to freak you out and go all emotional on you,” She sniffs and her lips tug upwards. 

 

“No, no- I wasn’t freaked out, I mean, it was nice,” Korra blurts. 

 

“It’s nice that I was crying?” 

 

“No, no not that. I meant, it was nice how happy this stuff made you,” She gestures awkwardly around them, but it’s hard because they’re still holding each other. 

 

“No one’s really done anything like this for me before,” Asami shrugs. 

 

Korra’s heart breaks for Asami. Asami Sato, who designs engines and machines and loves the rain, has never had anyone stick around long enough to do something nice for her and it feels like a mechanical fist is closing around her heart. Her best friend has been through hell and back a dozen times, each time a little more bruised than the last, and Korra knows firsthand that sometimes you need someone to help you pick up the pieces and get you back on your feet. Asami has done that for her time and time again. 

 

She doesn’t know how Asami does it, always putting everyone else first, but she does know that Asami deserves the world and Korra will stop at nothing to give it to her. 

 

XXX

 

Every fiber in Korra’s body has finally settled into a deep hum, buzzing contently as she and Asami huddle close, eyes transfixed on the Disney mover flickering across the screen. (Korra insists that one of the amendments literally gives Asami the right to ugly cry over these movies.) 

 

Asami agrees; she was educated by the best tutors across the four nations but somehow she wound up here, “Yeah, yeah, tutor schmutor,” where she’s about to receive a lesson in the nuances of motion picture projections from an avatar who still writes her “J”’s backwards sometimes. 

 

They’re silent for the most part, aside from the occasional huffs of laughter that escape them, content to just soak in each other’s company. Besides, Korra’s seen the Lion King half a million times (it’s her favorite and Mako hates it when she calls him Timon), but it’s much less interesting compared to her best friend who is inches away from her, breathing steadily and completely delighted by the characters dancing along the screen. Her heart feels full as she gazes around the room, taking note of the opened flying lemur gummies in Asami’s lap and the flicker of the ridiculous, heart-shaped streamers as they spin lightly, catching the soft glow of the screen. Asami’s head is resting against her shoulder, and Korra doesn’t dare so much as twitch, afraid Asami will rest her head anywhere but on her. 

 

Sure, her arm is starting to cramp and she thinks she’s sitting on a bag of fireflakes (they crunch loudly, threatening to disturb Asami from her perfectly comfortable position on her shoulder-- which Korra simply cannot allow), but Korra is so busy thinking about not moving that she tenses up and raven black hair shifts, replaced by deep green eyes that gaze intently at her through long, fluttering lashes. 

 

“Something on your mind?” Asami asks quietly, and Korra swears to everything good and spirity that Asami’s gaze flickers briefly down to her lips. 

 

“Just the usual, balance-y avatar stuff,” Korra lies weakly.  _ And you know, you.  _

 

Asami hums affirmatively before turning back to the screen, but that tiny movement is enough to send a fresh wave of tingles through Korra’s body as the floral shampoo scent tattoos itself inside Korra’s head without her permission. It probably doesn’t help that she knows the rhythms of Asami’s breathing like it’s the opening number to the tragic comedy that she calls her love life or that she knows exactly what shade of green Asami’s eyes are when her heart is light and free of her responsibilities. She wonders what her heartbeat sounds like. She doesn’t know if she’ll ever be free of the sights and sounds and smells of Asami Sato.  

 

She glances at the screen, spying the reunion of Simba and his childhood best friend and love, Nala. They’re playing together, running through fields and romping through forests. She has to admit it’s really cute, and as if on cue, Asami turns to look at her again just as the lions begin tumbling down the slope together on the screen. The look in Asami’s eyes is different, and Korra doesn’t know what this shade of green means. Her throat is suddenly dry, and she doesn’t know what to do or what’s going on but she can’t resist being tugged towards Asami, nearly passing out when she realizes that she can feel Asami’s controlled exhale puff gently against her lips. 

 

She’s just about to pull back, just as the song “Can you feel the love tonight” reaches its peak, but Asami is having none of it. Twisting her fingers lightly in the collar of Korra’s shirt, she pulls her down and ghosts her lips across Korra’s. Korra is many things, but she definitely doesn’t need to be told twice before pressing her lips fully against Asami’s, relishing in the texture of her slightly chapped lips against Asami’s warm ones.

 

It’s not the fireworks that Jinora’s romance novels describe (Okay, so she had taken a peek at a few), but instead it’s this deep sense of belonging and familiarity that Korra can’t explain. It’s like sinking into her bed after a long night or the way warm soup feels on its way down. It’s like when her fingers fit perfectly into the grooves of the steering wheel or the way a cherished book creases in just the right spot. But the taste is something very distinctly Asami. It’s not quite jasmine, and it’s definitely not motor oil, but it’s sweet and Korra is willing to try as many times as needed until she can put it into words. 

 

They pull away, and Korra’s jaw remembers that it was supposed to drop and her lungs remember that it’s time to breathe again. 

 

“Wh-how did you-” 

 

“I thought you were finally asking me on a real date…” Asami replies slowly, eyebrows knitting together.

 

“W-would that be okay?” 

 

The lovely flush that spreads across Asami’s cheeks and the fingertips she affectionately brushes under Korra’s chin are all the answer she needs. 

 

Korra doesn’t know how the future will unfold, but she does know that she, Korra, who has command of the four elements at her fingertips and loves the cold, is powerless against Asami Sato and will do anything to make her as happy as long as she lets her. 

**Author's Note:**

> The scene and song I reference are here if you'd like: 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=25QyCxVkXwQ
> 
> The Lion King will always hold a special place in my heart, just like Korrasami. Cheers.


End file.
